‘Never Be a Writer’ They Said…

My motives for writing this post are entirely dishonourable. If I can put off just one talented and upcoming writer from continuing, I may stand a chance. I am trying to save you poor disillusioned fools from ‘the life’.

The reasons why you should never be a writer:

You spend a fortune on notebooks and pens, placed around your home, in bags, the car, other people’s homes, bags and cars… Because if you don’t write that amazing idea down immediately, the little blighter will fly,fly away, like those freaky monkeys in The Wizard of Oz.

You become thoroughly anti-social. You will ‘shh’ your husband when he is trying to tell you about his rubbish day. Your main character was speaking first, albeit in your head.

You get the jitters from the amount of coffee you consume to eject yourself into the writing day. Vodka levels it all out later.

You often lose sense of what is real and what is ‘novel world’; akin to when you wake from a dream, angry with your partner for ‘dream cheating’.

Facebook is your nemesis. It was once an occasional guilty pleasure. It is now a hateful siren of social media, trying to lure you to writers’ oblivion.

Trying to explain to people that you are a writer and being asked what you do all day. Then realising you’re not helping the cause in detailing that a large chunk of that is formulating ideas, via immersion in social media, having a cheeky nap, watching Game of Thrones, internet shopping and singing along to dodgy ’80s tunes. Don’t judge, there are many muses, in surprising guises.

If you’re a full-time writer; trying to convince people that you’re not a benefits cheat or a lazy sod who can’t be bothered to work.

Wondering if you can actually write. Convincing yourself on occasion that you cannot. Feeling victorious for writing a sentence.

The paranoia that those who read your writing and stated that they loved it are liars, because they know you’re a scary bitch when criticised.

Days when you have to check how to spell ‘and‘ because you’ve been staring at words for so long. English becomes a foreign language.

Knowing that a high percentage of writers will never be traditionally published or widely known, and being sadistic enough to keep going anyway.

Realising that your characters have a far more interesting life than yours and finding yourself growing increasingly jealous of them.

The endless social media self-promotion mill. I need a PA who is happy to be paid in chocolate – but only the supermarket own brand. The Dairy Milk remains with me.

Many people won’t ever consider you as, or refer to you as, a writer, until your work is published. Possibly not even then. You are still the person they used to know before this ‘writing foolishness’ started. Get a job.

You will become dangerously depleted in Vitamin D, lily white, and with haunted eyes, because you avoid the ‘big bad outside’ that pulls you away from your writing spot.

So why on earth would you write??

Well, you don’t look like Bridget Jones but needs must…

Because it’s exhilarating, exciting and there is nothing quite like it to make you feel alive, to stir up your imagination and to share all the weirdness that goes on in that brain.

Because for some of us, there is no choice. It bites you on the heels and if you don’t feed that snappy little hound, you may as well just curl up and let the puppies devour you.

Bridget Jones wasn’t afraid of those Alsatians without reason, you know. Just in case I am accused, in this exceptionally PC world, of ‘Alsatianism’, here’s a cute Alsatian. Although if you ask me, that bunny’s days are well and truly numbered…

So many of these reasons — why I should never be a writer — resonate with me. It’s a tough gig. Especially when you get stuck on a reason and can’t get past it. But the positives outweigh the negatives and I thank you for reminding me of that. I’m going to reblog this, also, because it made me laugh out loud 🙂